Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Chapter 26 – Self–Control-1

Kent storms into the dining room, where the table is set for four. He sits down hard in his chair at the head of the table, waving at the place settings on either side of him.

“Remove these,” he says to the waitstaff, biting off the words in his frustration. “Have Daniel’s and Fay’s plates sent up to Fay’s room, they’ll take their supper there.”

The waitstaff give each other worried looks but silently do as they’re told. The chef comes out next, looking around the room.

“Sir?” He asks, his French accent heavy in the word. “Will y be dining alone?”

“Apparently,” Kent says, angry that Fiona isn’t here either. “Please bring it out.”

you

The chef nods, impassive, and heads back into the kitchen. A few moments later he appears again with Kent’s first course – salmon tartare with a small side salad and a freshly–sliced French baguette.

Kent ignores the fish and reaches directly for the bread, slathering it with butter as he sits back in his chair and thinks.

Thinks, inevitably, about her.

God damnit, he almost couldn’t take looking at her tonight, sitting there in her bed, crying as if her heart would break. He had tried – tried to break the mood, to cajole her out of it. to

But she had just kept crying –

He grits his teeth between bites of bread, angry with himself for not being able to control himself. For wanting, even now, to dash up those stairs and so something — anything – to make her stop.

–

But she was Daniel’s problem now, a right with Daniel had just asserted upstairs. Kicking him out and keeping Fay all to himself.

Kent has tried, these past few weeks. Tried to distract himself, to busy himself with his work and his plans, tried to ignore her when she walks by, the light lily scent of her shampoo drifting through the air-

The wide–eyed expressions of her face, when she’s shocked, happy, sad, angry –

from somewhere deep in her soul – he loves to prod her, to push her, to raise that fire in her

felt, those few times when he lost his control, when he caught her spying on him in the basement, for instance, and chased her up the stairs, pinned her against the hall of her room, saw

–

it felt when she pounded her little fists against his chest – god, he had wanted to turn her around right there, press her up against the wall, press the length of himself up against her ass as he slipped his hand beneath her shirt, taught her a lesson about what it meant

squeezes a slice of the bread within his

Chapter 26

Self–C

3/3

undoing of him. She made him just lose it – lose absolute control of himself, the one thing he

of her, Kent decided, looking blankly across the room. He’d send them away – marry

of it, of them building a life together, of

–

grits his teeth and pounds his fist against the

plate as his mind races.

Write your comment

Gifts

26 – Self–Control–2

option. Could he, somehow, claim her for his own –

at himself, then, putting his hand over his face, disgusted. What was he thinking – trying to find a way to take his son’s fiancé from

damnit, Kent had never been in such a tight spot. Had never wanted something so badly, and yet had it so completely

passed, Kent felt his control over himself slipping, bit by bit. If he loses control of

sometimes, when she looks at him that way. When she half–lids her eyes and pulls her lower lip

his fist against the table again, forcing

was he going to

swings open and Fiona breezes in. “Hey baby,” she says with a big smile, settling

She can see, clearly, that he’s in a foul mood and she has to tread very, very carefully if she wants to get out of this in one

at her. “Why

five minutes late. Still, she tries to keep it light as the chef comes through

says

narrow further, and Fiona realizes she miscalculated. Shit. The right choice would have been all apology – no joke. She screws her mouth shut, looking down at her plate and taking a piece of bread out of its little basket, fiddling with it between her