“No,” Ryan said flatly, pulling me tighter to his chest when I tried to squirm away. I presumed we’d end up in a fight once he got me alone.

“Listen, I know this has been traumatic,” David continued. “The Burberry thing was just a filler. Everyone else is at the photo call waiting for y—”

“I said no,” Ryan spat. I felt the tension in his grip on my shoulder. His lips were pressed to my forehead when he breathed, “We’re going back to our hotel.” Despite Ryan’s declaration, David was still trying to persuade him to continue on with his scheduled obligations when we entered our lavish suite. “Okay, so what do you want me to tell the producers when I have to explain why you weren’t at the photo call? And the premiere is at six. Our car has to leave here by five thirty.”

“I’ll handle dealing with the studio execs,” Ryan’s agent, Aaron, said. “Under the circumstances, it’s unfortunate but they’ll understand.”

David was unrelenting. “But if we intend to cover this up properly, he should make it to all of his scheduled appearances. Being a no-show only confirms the suspicions. He needs to be there, Aaron. You know it as well as I do.”

Ryan wasn’t listening to anyone. He marched off to the bathroom.

Trish had every electronic device known to man fired up and was multitasking her ass off trying to counterattack all the negative press before it surfaced.

I sat on the sofa, wallowing deep in guilt for causing all of this, wishing I could disappear back into the quiet of my apartment. I just couldn’t shake it no matter what I tried to do. The fear and mortification were swirling in my chest like an angry tornado, sucking up every other emotion in its wake.

I’d never been in any trouble with the law, not even as a kid, and having my first taste of it was terrifying. Hanging out with Marie and my other best friend, Thomas’s sister Melanie, I came damn close a couple of times, but somehow, some way we always came out in the clear.

Several times Thomas and I came close to getting busted, like the time the cops pulled us over when we were driving back from a keg party at North Bay beach. God, I shook all the way home from that near miss. Or the time we were interrupted by shore patrol having insane sex at two in the morning out near the bluff.

Despite that, nothing as bad as this had ever happened before. And the ramifications that would stem from this were too numerous to even begin to comprehend.

Ryan sat next to me, scrutinizing my injuries. My breath hissed uncontrollably from the sting when he rubbed a warm washcloth over my cheek.

His eyes were so repentant. “Sorry, honey.

I’m trying to be gentle, but we have to clean these cuts.”

As much as I loved him tending to me, I wanted to pull the cloth from his hand. I felt like I didn’t deserve that gentle hand.

David ended a phone call. “Marcia Gay Harden’s assistant is going to come up and stay with Taryn while you’re at the premiere, Ryan. Jenna’s people are all busy.”

“I’m not going,” Ryan said softly, wiping my lip with the utmost care.

All eyes landed on him—even mine.

David became overly animated in the midst of his talent-manager meltdown, rant-ing on and on about not believing what he had just heard.

“I said I’m not going,” Ryan repeated.

David started arguing but Ryan paid no attention to him. An eerie calm was over him.

The calm before the storm. perhaps?

I felt Ryan’s hand tremble lightly when he tipped my chin up. “I need to call the concierge and get some medicine for you,” he said softly. “I got most of the dirt out of the cuts but I’ll be able to do a better job once I get you in the shower.”

I stilled his hand. “Ryan, please. I’ve ruined enough. You have to go.”

His nostrils flared. “I’m not leaving you. Not like this.”

I took the washcloth from him, ignoring the fact that the once-pure-white towel was now tinged pink. “It’s only for a few hours.” I tried to smile encouragingly, feeling as dirty and stained as the cloth in my hand.

His lip quivered ever so slightly as he shook his head. “I can’t.”

I locked eyes with David, wishing he wouldn’t hover. I was about to do him a huge favor. “Can you please excuse us for a moment?”

I hoped David could read me enough to know that I was trying to do the right thing.

Mike, bless his soul, cleared everyone out of our suite.

Ryan pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor. “Don’t try to talk me into going.” His tone left no room for argument. I was resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going anywhere tonight anyway, including a stately dinner with the prime minister of France and his family.




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