Scoundrel With A Noble Heart (sequel of Disgraceful)

Chapter 96

The next morning, Marguerite wrestled her luggage out of her room, hoping to slip away before anyone awoke. Not anger, but something far more insidious fueled her haste. Sleep had evaded her the prior night. A torrent of rage had engulfed her initially, but as the hours bled into dawn, a sobering train of thought infiltrated the red mist.

What was the true source of her anger? Was it Jacob's self-serving motives, or the fact that he'd shoved the ugly truth in her face, shattering the fragile hope she'd built through denial?

The answer, a sudden flash of deep knowledge, hit her like a ton of bricks.

The anger she'd displayed had been a mere facade. A mask for the real emotion lurking beneath ~ fear. Fear of the feelings Jacob had unearthed, emotions that threatened to lead her down a dangerous path.

Shaken by the realization, her first instinct was to escape. A desperate flight before reason abandoned her entirely. Last night, she'd been swept away by his allure. How long could she resist before being swallowed whole?

Halfway down the stairs, she spotted Jacob sprawled on the couch in the vast living room. An empty decanter and a half drunk glass perched on the low table before him, a stark evidence of his silent struggle. His bloodshot eyes, a stark contrast to his usual cool composure, widened in surprise as their gazes met.

"Maggie?" Jacob scrambled up, a desperate edge tinged his voice. Her heart lurched at the tremor, but she pushed it down. "I'm going home." Forcing her gaze away, she continued down the stairs.

"Wait, Maggie, we need to talk."

"There's nothing left to say, Jake. I won't play your game."
She didn't dare look at him, fear it might unravel her resolve. Her steps quickened towards the hallway.

A strong yet gentle hand seized her arm, "No, Maggie. You need to hear this."

He spun her around, urging her to meet his gaze. "This is not a game. What I feel for you is real. I found something in you... you challenge me in a way no one ever has. I've never met anyone like you."

Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, but no matter how flattered she might be, she had her head in the right place. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips.
"You expect me to believe that?"

Jacob frowned at the skeptical note in her voice. "Why not?"

"The women you usually date...they're glamorous, sophisticated. What could someone like me possibly offer?"

"You're wrong, Maggie. Beauty is just a polished surface. You have something deeper, something that I've never found in anyone else before."

Her resolve, like a fortress wall, began to show cracks under the relentless barrage of his words, leaving her teetering on the edge of temptation. Still, the stakes were too high. And a clear, though unexciting path was a safer choice over an alluring yet unpredictable future.

"No, Jake." She struggled to break free, her voice a desperate plea, "Please, let me go!"

His grip tightened, not out of aggression, but a desperate need for her attention. "Not before we talk it over."

All of a sudden, a thunderclap of a voice split the air. "She said let her go, you son of a b*****!!!"

Their heads swiveled towards the sound. Marguerite's breath hitched as she recognized the man emerging from the doorway.

"Matthew..."

In a flash, Matthew's swift, long strides devoured the ground between them. Before Marguerite could register the shift, his hand grasped Jacob's lapel. Muscles tensed in Matthew's jaw, his eyes burning with a fire Marguerite had never witnessed. In a blur of motion, his fist drove into Jacob's face, sending him reeling backward.