Chapter 6
6
I was hyperaware of my missing underwear as I crossed back into the main ballroom and headed for the bar. I’d never gone commando before, and I felt like a hussy. I tried not to look around for the mystery guy but couldn’t help nervously scanning the crowd, as though he would appear and announce what I’d let him do to me.
It seemed like everyone was watching me, like they already knew.
That feeling of shame twisted something inside me, like a perverse part of me was turned on by the idea. Like I wanted them to know.
He broke my brain with that orgasm. What am I even thinking?
I ordered our drinks and made my way upstairs to one of the cocktail tables at a balcony railing where I could see everything happening in the ballroom. It only took minutes for my father to appear, his eyes alight with irritation. “That was a disaster.”
I opened my mouth to apologize, but he said, “First he was expecting your sister. He’s got more money than god, and he can’t do so much as a Google search? Then he throws me a curveball I don’t have an answer for.”
“What kind of curveball?” I kept my tone soft and neutral, hoping he would actually tell me what was going on.
“Senator Macallan won’t stop pushing for King to be investigated. King was under the mistaken impression that I could make it go away. He’s testing the power of our name, asking me to demonstrate what it’ll do for him.”
“Surely you have some sway with Macallan. You’re Nathaniel Bryson.”
He rubbed his temples. “Not to make a federal investigation into King go away. He’s pulled all the right levers already, but the good senator is like a dog with a bone and won’t stop insisting. He can’t be bought or reasoned with.”
“So King doesn’t want to marry me now?” If it was because Daddy couldn’t manipulate a senator and not because I’d failed, surely he couldn’t punish me for it.
“It would help if you could give him a reason to want to.”
“But if you can’t make the investigation go away, do you even want me married to him? Won’t that bring scandal?”
He barked a harsh laugh. “He’ll stop at nothing until it goes away, of that I’m sure. You’ve got nothing to worry about there, but the senator might if he doesn’t back off soon.”
It sounded like a whole lot to be worried about.
My stomach sunk as I spotted the son of a bitch who’d tricked me at the railing across from us, mid-conversation with a judge my father had handpicked to be appointed. Judge Rodgers looked entranced, as caught in the mystery guy’s spell as I’d been.
I didn’t even think the judge was into men, but he sure looked ready to take the fuckhead upstairs.
“Who is that?” I blurted before I could think better of it.
My father looked over at the man who’d just been up my skirts, and they locked eyes across the room. The devil himself raised his glass, toasting us with a roguish grin, like this was all some kind of game to him.
I wrapped my clammy hands into the folds of my skirt to keep myself from flipping him off.
“Stay away from him, sugar,” my father said, going rigid beside me. “You don’t need to know his name. He gets ahead in the world by knowing other people’s secrets, by having leverage.”
I was going to be sick. Was that what it had been about? Leverage over me, something to blackmail me with? “Why’s he even here if he’s that dangerous?”
My father’s voice was bitter. “Because he didn’t give me a choice in the matter.”
That rocked me back on my heels. This guy not only had the guts to antagonize my father but had the power to keep him from doing anything about it.
As though in slow motion, the bastard raised his hand and dabbed the corner of his mouth with the unmistakable lavender fabric of my panties, then put them back in his tux pocket like a trophy.
I squared my shoulders and straightened my back, presenting the posture that had been taught to every generation of women in my family. The posture of a woman with whom you did not fuck.
The asshole’s head tilted like I’d done something interesting, so I pulled my eyes away from him and glanced at a random person in the crowd as though he hadn’t been any more important to me than the next person.
I swore I heard the rumble of his laugh over the sound of the crowd.
My father looked me in the eye, his expression almost frantic in its seriousness. “He’s a dangerous son of a bitch, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Too fucking late…
“An old-fashioned,” I said, as I passed Kevin’s drink to him.
He’d come to join me at the cocktail table on the upper level, after my father strategically left me alone to attend to other business. Which had also left me still avoiding eye contact with Mr. Dangerous, who was leaning all too casually against the railing on the far side of the upper level. I’d been terrified he was going to come over when my father left and cause a scene in front of Kevin.
“You must think I’m an asshole…” Kevin had a faint smile, like he was waiting for me to confirm it.
Instead, I said, “You’re direct. It’s refreshing. I know exactly where I stand with you.” I gave him a playful look. “It’s unfortunate I happen to be standing on the wrong side of my sister…but I can’t blame you for thinking she’s the more strategic choice.”
His smile this time was genuine. It was warm and charming but didn’t trigger the wild feelings another smile had earlier in the night. “I might be warming to the idea of a match with you.”
A phone on the table buzzed wildly.
“Are you going to get that?” he said.
“It’s actually not—” I turned it over and stopped talking.
Unknown
He is an asshole. Ditch him so I can taste that pretty pussy again.
My cheeks burned with shame. I wanted to chuck the phone all the way across to the other railing and smack Mr. Dangerous in the head with it.
How could he even hear our conversation? And how the hell had he gotten a phone onto the table without me noticing?
I refused to look at him but could still feel his eyes boring into me, waiting to see what I’d do. I couldn’t put the phone down and pretend it wasn’t mine now, so I picked it up and said, “Interested in that tour of the gallery?”
I dumped the phone in the nearest trash can and made sure he saw me taking Kevin’s arm as we left the ballroom.
“Who’s your favorite artist of all time?” Kevin perched next to me on a bench in the hotel’s art gallery. It was a pretty sparse collection of paintings, but it had given me an area of competence to focus on that had the bonus of letting me escape the ballroom.
“Any medium? Not just painters?”
“Any artist.” He stared at my face as I looked at the ceiling and considered my answer.
“Bernini. He was a Renaissance sculptor, and a piece of his, The Abduction of Proserpina , brought me to tears the first time I saw it. The way he could turn marble into a thing of such life and movement and… feeling .”
He looked skeptical but amused as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I prefer living beauty over marble made to look alive.”
I leaned into his touch just a little, hoping it was okay to encourage him.
“Living beauty fades, though,” I pointed out.
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But maybe that’s what makes it so precious.”
“And what about you?” I asked softly. “Do you have a favorite artist?”
He tilted his head back and forth, then shrugged. “Art isn’t really my thing. I love hunting the way you love art. Being outdoors, outmatched by some beast I ultimately conquer. Big game is my passion.”
I let him see my eyes flare with surprise. “It doesn’t scare you?”
He grinned. “Oh, it does. That’s the part I’m hooked on.”
I lowered my eyes, and when I looked back up, he’d shifted even closer. Just as Kevin started to kiss my neck, Mr. Dangerous sauntered into the gallery and pretended to be looking at the paintings for a split second before pinning me with a smoldering look. Kevin’s kiss didn’t make me feel anything except the urge to pull away, but when Mr. Dangerous’s mouth hitched up into a knowing smile, my stomach swooped with desire.
I pulled away from Kevin awkwardly. “It’s getting kind of late. Do you think you could walk me back to my room?”
Why did I say that?
I knew exactly why I’d said it; it had nothing to do with my father’s goals and everything to do with wanting to make the arrogant bastard jealous.
What if Kevin thinks that means we’re going to have sex? Do I want to have sex with him?
Oh, I wanted to have sex with someone, but it wasn’t Kevin, and it wasn’t happening.
“I’d like that,” Kevin said with a twinkle of interest in his eyes.
I dared a glance back over my shoulder as we left the room. Mr. Dangerous looked at where I was holding Kevin’s arm, and his eyes narrowed into an irritated glare.
Good.
Die mad, asshole.