One Foolish Night
Page 14
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Paul looked away. “I read the message. I thought it was my phone.” He pointed to his, which still lay in the pile of clothes on the floor.
He could hear her breath hitch. It was all the confirmation he needed. Still, he didn’t want to accept it. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation. “What are you, Holly?” He looked up and met her gaze.
She swallowed hard, clearly looking for an answer to satisfy his curiosity.
He motioned to the phone. “The agency. Is it what I think it is?”
Holly didn’t answer, but the hand holding her phone started to tremble.
“Oh God, when were you gonna tell me?” He shot up from the bed, unconcerned about his nudity. “What the fuck, Holly? Were you gonna present me with a bill this morning for all the services you provided last night? Is that what you were gonna do?” He lashed an angry glare at her. How could she have done this to him?
Shock pulsed through her. But rage wasn’t far behind. How dared he accuse her of turning their night into something cheap?
“I’m on vacation!” Holly yelled, louder than she’d intended to.
“So that makes it all right for you to lie to me, does it?” he growled.
“I never lied to you about what I do.”
He took a step toward her, his eyes narrowing. She could see the fury blazing in his eyes. “That’s splitting hairs! You didn’t tell me the truth about what you are!” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Fuck, I slept with a prostitute.”
Holly gripped the towel covering her body tighter, hoping he couldn’t see the way she was starting to shake with both shame and anger. Shame because of what she’d been, and anger because he’d accused her of wanting to charge him for their night of passion. With one sentence, he’d turned their erotic encounter into something dirty and disgusting.
That hurt most. So much, in fact, that she could only do one thing: protect herself by pushing him as far away as possible. He thought her to be a prostitute, so that’s what she was. The fact that she’d quit wouldn’t change that, not in Paul’s eyes. So she didn’t even bother telling him. Instead, she went on the offensive.
“Yes, and you liked it! So get off your high horse! Last night wasn’t about what I do for a living. Last night I was on vacation. Even an escort gets to take a vacation and do what she wants to do during that time. And if that means I’m going to have a one-night stand with some guy, then who’s to stop me?”
“You used me!”
Holly let out a bitter laugh. “Used you? If I remember correctly, you were the one who rode me like a stallion on steroids. You took what I offered. If it hadn’t been me, it would have been somebody else. So don’t make it sound like I tricked you. I made no promises, and neither did you.”
Paul clenched his teeth, his eyes spewing venom now. “I . . . I went down on you! I pleasured you not knowing—”
“—that I’m a whore?” She lashed the word at him, preferring to say it herself rather than hear it come from his lips. “Does that mean I don’t deserve any pleasure? Is that what you’re saying? That I’m so low that I don’t deserve any of this? That I don’t deserve love?”
Inside, her heart ached at the realization that nothing would ever change. Even though she’d quit the business, as soon as a man found out what she’d done in the past, he would judge her for it. Just as Paul judged her now.
Paul stared at her, lips pressed together, hands clenched at his sides.
“You really think this is the first time you slept with a prostitute? Wake up!”
He huffed angrily. “I never—”
“You really think that any woman you’ve slept with is less of a whore than I am? They’re not any different, they just don’t take credit cards. But trust me, you pay for it nonetheless, or do you really think they only sleep with you because of your good looks?”
His face turned red.
“They sleep with you because of your money.”
Though this had not been her motivation—she had slept with him because she’d felt drawn to him. She’d seen something in Paul. She’d felt something. Maybe in the end, it had only been lust and had meant nothing at all.
Holly turned and pulled her dress and her shoes from the pile of clothes. “And don’t worry, last night was a freebie.”
“Get out of my house!” he yelled.
“With pleasure!” she screamed back, fished for her handbag, and marched toward the bedroom door.
The sound when she slammed it behind her was the best thing she’d heard in the last five minutes.
He could hear her breath hitch. It was all the confirmation he needed. Still, he didn’t want to accept it. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation. “What are you, Holly?” He looked up and met her gaze.
She swallowed hard, clearly looking for an answer to satisfy his curiosity.
He motioned to the phone. “The agency. Is it what I think it is?”
Holly didn’t answer, but the hand holding her phone started to tremble.
“Oh God, when were you gonna tell me?” He shot up from the bed, unconcerned about his nudity. “What the fuck, Holly? Were you gonna present me with a bill this morning for all the services you provided last night? Is that what you were gonna do?” He lashed an angry glare at her. How could she have done this to him?
Shock pulsed through her. But rage wasn’t far behind. How dared he accuse her of turning their night into something cheap?
“I’m on vacation!” Holly yelled, louder than she’d intended to.
“So that makes it all right for you to lie to me, does it?” he growled.
“I never lied to you about what I do.”
He took a step toward her, his eyes narrowing. She could see the fury blazing in his eyes. “That’s splitting hairs! You didn’t tell me the truth about what you are!” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Fuck, I slept with a prostitute.”
Holly gripped the towel covering her body tighter, hoping he couldn’t see the way she was starting to shake with both shame and anger. Shame because of what she’d been, and anger because he’d accused her of wanting to charge him for their night of passion. With one sentence, he’d turned their erotic encounter into something dirty and disgusting.
That hurt most. So much, in fact, that she could only do one thing: protect herself by pushing him as far away as possible. He thought her to be a prostitute, so that’s what she was. The fact that she’d quit wouldn’t change that, not in Paul’s eyes. So she didn’t even bother telling him. Instead, she went on the offensive.
“Yes, and you liked it! So get off your high horse! Last night wasn’t about what I do for a living. Last night I was on vacation. Even an escort gets to take a vacation and do what she wants to do during that time. And if that means I’m going to have a one-night stand with some guy, then who’s to stop me?”
“You used me!”
Holly let out a bitter laugh. “Used you? If I remember correctly, you were the one who rode me like a stallion on steroids. You took what I offered. If it hadn’t been me, it would have been somebody else. So don’t make it sound like I tricked you. I made no promises, and neither did you.”
Paul clenched his teeth, his eyes spewing venom now. “I . . . I went down on you! I pleasured you not knowing—”
“—that I’m a whore?” She lashed the word at him, preferring to say it herself rather than hear it come from his lips. “Does that mean I don’t deserve any pleasure? Is that what you’re saying? That I’m so low that I don’t deserve any of this? That I don’t deserve love?”
Inside, her heart ached at the realization that nothing would ever change. Even though she’d quit the business, as soon as a man found out what she’d done in the past, he would judge her for it. Just as Paul judged her now.
Paul stared at her, lips pressed together, hands clenched at his sides.
“You really think this is the first time you slept with a prostitute? Wake up!”
He huffed angrily. “I never—”
“You really think that any woman you’ve slept with is less of a whore than I am? They’re not any different, they just don’t take credit cards. But trust me, you pay for it nonetheless, or do you really think they only sleep with you because of your good looks?”
His face turned red.
“They sleep with you because of your money.”
Though this had not been her motivation—she had slept with him because she’d felt drawn to him. She’d seen something in Paul. She’d felt something. Maybe in the end, it had only been lust and had meant nothing at all.
Holly turned and pulled her dress and her shoes from the pile of clothes. “And don’t worry, last night was a freebie.”
“Get out of my house!” he yelled.
“With pleasure!” she screamed back, fished for her handbag, and marched toward the bedroom door.
The sound when she slammed it behind her was the best thing she’d heard in the last five minutes.
